Dreams, Trauma and Magic

When Toni Morrison died, The New York Times Book Review Podcast dedicated an entire episode to talking about her and her books. I have to admit that at the time, I hadn’t read a single book of hers, but had heard plenty about her flawless writing and captivating story telling. The Book Review Podcast only gave her more praise and gave me a long list of books to add to my to read list. Unfortunately, I had told myself that I wouldn’t buy another book until I had read everything I owned (don’t ask me why) so Toni Morrison sat on my list for a long time. Then one day, I was taken to a used bookstore, and I couldn’t help but pick up Beloved, by Toni Morrison.

Beloved is set in post-civil war United States, and tells the story of a family of former slaves living in Cincinnati. Their house is haunted by a malevolent spirit, whose presence makes Sethe, Denver, and Paul D come to terms with the ghosts and trauma buried in their histories, and the haunting of their futures. The story, told beautifully through scenes remembered and lived experiences deals with relationships, family, loss, and the trauma that came with slavery.

It took me a while to write this review because of the depth and complexity of this book. Morrison’s prose is lyrical and poignant, the way the story is built, moving in and out of the past and the present, holds your attention, and the deft way that the trauma, the pain, and the healing is communicated through the story is heart-wrenching.

What made this book wonderful for me was the exploration of human trauma. The way that slavery afftects Sethe’s relationship with herself, her children, and the rest of her life is explored in its raw, messy form. Paul D is also shaped by his experience with slavery, learning to keep his emotions at bay, learning to survive rather than live. How does this, this emotional trauma suffered by the adults in the house, affect Denver, Sethe’s daughter, who has only ever remembered a time when her house was haunted, slowly chasing away the only people who ever made her feel like a child. Morrison moves away from stereotypical portrayals of mothers and daughters, of mothers love, and of community support. She isn’t afraid to delve into the more difficult parts of life, the parts that are messy and tough to figure out: murder, death, power struggles, and forgiveness.

The book is also filled with magical realism that I took for granted as a reader. The magic in the book, the exploration of spirits, is not fantastical, but almost believable. Like I wouldn’t expect a world without it. I’m not one to believe in spirits, ghosts, or even an afterlife, but it I didn’t second guess it in Morrison’s prose. Probably just a function of fiction.

It is not surprising that this book won the Pulitzer prize for fiction.  Morrison’s prose is lyrical and convoluted, flitting between present and past. But it has the power of situating the reader in the moment, allowing you to feel the every emotion, every thought, and every feeling. The descriptive quality of the work changes from subject to subject, personalizing every experience. I felt situated in Sethe’s world, in Denver’s world, in Paul D’s world.

I love any book that takes the reality that people live in and take it to new heights. Whether it’s escapism, or the difficult work of dismantling trauma. Beloved is a wonderful book to use as a witness of the effects of slavery, of being seen as less than human, of being treated as less than human. It’s a reminder of how our actions have larger effects for generations to come.